


Just One Look

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [45]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Noir, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 07:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14869314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: He was nothing but a silhouette, a paper cutout of a man loitering in my office doorway.





	Just One Look

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: She was nothing but a silhouette. Prompt from this [generator](http://colormayfade.tumblr.com/generator).
> 
> I am an absolute sucker for noir.

He was nothing but a silhouette, a paper cutout of a man loitering in my office doorway. There were no lights on in my office, just the flash of my cig and the cheap spillage of the nearest streetlight, but Nat’s office, my anteroom, they were lit up like Christmas, so all I could see was his outline, a shadowy hint of a guy in a good suit. Little did I know then that I’d just met the love of my life.

“Mr. Stark?” the suit said. “We had an appointment.”

“If you’re Mr. Barnes,” I said, “then yeah, we did. A half an hour ago. You wanna talk, you owe me for my last 30 minutes.”

The guy took a step in, swept off his hat. “Seems only fair.”

I pointed at a chair. He sat.

“Now,” I said, a feeling a little more friendly, “can you tell me what you didn’t want to say on the phone?”

He shifted a little. Stuck a hand inside his jacket and drew out a lush cigarette case. Even in the gloom, the gold taper of the thing found the light. Something in me settled. So the guy could afford me. That was something. Not every last-minute call I get on a Thursday can. Especially one as cloak and dagger as Barnes had been. Almost cagey.

Barnes stuck a roll between his teeth and snapped open his lighter. That was gold, too.

“I want you to know,” he said, “I’m here because Peggy Carter recommended you."

God, Peggy. I missed that woman. “Peggy’s good people.”

“She is. If she hadn’t vouched for you, there’s no way that I’d be here.” There was a warning there, an implicit assumption. I felt the need to make it explicit.

“Whatever you say to me stays between us, Mr. Barnes. That’s what you’re paying for: my silence first, my help second.”

He nodded, took a long, pretty drag on his cig. And then he leaned forward into the light.

“Mr. Stark,” he said. “My boyfriend is missing. And I don’t especially want him to be found.”

I opened my mouth to answer, I wanted to, but my brain was too busy reeling like a drunk on an unsteady boat. Christ, the boy was gorgeous, and that’s all he really was--a boy. Maybe 25, 26, but there was a softness in his eyes, in his mouth, that made him seem younger. His eyes were blue diamonds and his hair was dark, slicked back from his forehead, a few dark curls shaken free by his hat. There was a scar on his cheek, a small one, tucked down by his jawline. I bit down on my lip. Just one look and I wanted to eat him alive.

I reached for my coffee cup and threw back the whiskey that was hiding inside. I said: “Ok. Did you kill him?”

Not a flicker on that beautiful face. “No. Of course not.”

“All right. So. What happened?”

“The last time I saw him was three days ago. Monday night. We had a hell of a fight.”


End file.
